True love doesn't exist, and other lies you told yourself
by Twillium
Summary: Maleval beauty and the beast au (sort of) They say this is a story of a beauty and a beast. But you must ask yourself the question dear reader. In this story; who is the beauty, and who is the beast?
1. Prologue

Most stories start with a once upon a time. This story is one of them.  
Most stories have heroines that are often swooning young maidens, who happen to be princesses. Whose love interests are young, strapping young men, who happen to be princes.  
This story is not one of those.

This is a story about love. But not love at first sight like in most other fairytales. This is a love that grows slowly but surely. At its own awkward pace, with all its bumps and hiccups that make it into something wholesome and good.

But I assume you want me to get on with the actual story don't you?  
Very well; here we go.

Once upon a time, there lived a great and beautiful faerie named Maleficent. She was not a swooning maiden or a delicate princess. Maleficent possessed all the fierce and lively beauty of her home, the Moors, land of the fair folk. It was said among them, that looking into the face of Maleficent in those days was like looking into the sun; something bright and blinding and filled with warmth.

By the course of fate, in her younger years she met a boy named Stefan. And they became fast friends (and later on something else, which they dared call true love); it seemed as if between them, there might be hope yet as for admitting humans into the moors, who had fought so much with the human kingdom as of late.

Now you might be thinking: 'He's the one! Stefan is her intended who will with the help of Maleficent unite the fair people and the humans once more!'  
How I wish this was the case dear readers.  
But no; our story begins on a much bitter note. The one of betrayal.

You see Stefan, while a nice boy in his youth, was later in life corrupted by greed and ambition so fierce they warped his whole soul. So when the king felt that he had to have the moors within his reach; and decreed that any who should fell the fairy who protected them would be King after him; a deep and dark longing festered in his heart. So one day sneaking out into the moors he used Maleficent's trust against her. Drugging the good fairy into a powerful sleep from which she would not wake until morning. Then Stefan prepared for a most dark and hideous deed; murder.  
Yet in the end, before the very moment he was to dig a dagger into her heart, something of his old self stirred within him. Rearing back in disgust at what he was about to do. Stefan warred bitterly with himself for hours on end before reaching a conclusion. He was not to kill Maleficent, he could not bring himself to such a deed. Instead he decided upon something much worse. He was to take her wings.

It is no easy task, to take a faerie's wings. They not just any old limb, like you or I might have arms and legs. No, they are a great source of power in the inner magical network of such beings. Networks that carry the magic to and fro within them, and as such they are infinitely hard to harm, let alone remove. So Stefan in his desperation set out to do something far worse than murder, black magic.

Now I know what you're thinking. 'Magic? That's only for the faeries!'  
Well you'd be wrong in thinking that. Humans, though not as powerful as faeries of course, can do magic too. But those who dedicate themselves to the art rarely have the purity of heart needed to do good magic. Instead they find themselves having to resort to black magic, which while not always necessarily evil was being used for the darkest of acts on this night.

So Stefan set out to prepare everything as fast as he could, knowing he had only till sunrise to finish his task. So he gathered the herbs, the salts and the sacrifice; and proceeded to curse Maleficent's wings off. But as he was finishing up the curse, he looked down at her sleeping face, contorted with pain and the last of his former self was moved to pity. So, in a final act of charity, he left an exception in the curse. Maleficent's wings were to be removed, cut to the quick and expected to grow back nevermore; unless, she was to find someone to love her wholeheartedly and truthfully with all their might. Only the truest of loves could restore her wings to her former glory.

His task completed Stefan stole away in the morning light. Unaware that he had been watched the whole time, his proclamation of the foul curse, exception and all. By a young water faerie, who had in vain tried to gather help at the dead of night to find all the nearby inhabitants of the moors in a deep sleep.

When Maleficent woke in the morning she was told the events of the past hours by the small fae, and a horrible tumult of anger and sadness embittered her forevermore.  
The news quickly spread throughout the moors and all the inhabitants who loved their protector dearly came to pay their condolences to the fallen faerie. But it was no use. Betrayal had already soured Maleficent's heart. And to look upon her face now was too look upon a thunder storm, still beautiful beyond compare, but now deadly and cold beyond imagination.

And all the tree spirits, who loved her best, where the ones who most understood her need for isolation. So they wove together great the great boughs that they made sprout form the earth. And made Maleficent a castle, the likes of which had never been seen before; made completely out of wood and towering trees, hollowed out on the inside. And so she became unofficial queen of the moors. Still a protector, still respected, still loved; though she had no more of these affections in her heart.

This is the story of Maleficent and how she learned to love again.


	2. Equivalent exchange (but not really)

Princesses are rarely encouraged to become adventurous. They are instead taught to sit still and look pretty; perfect little porcelain dolls arranged to be handled delicately and with care. Aurora has been instilled with these thoughts from a young age.  
If she listened to them; well, that's another matter.

At sixteen she was everything a young princess ought to be. Lovely, charming, sweet and perfectly poised; however she was also entirely too careless, a bit too daring as well as irrevocably mouthy for a princess.

The young princess had been raised in the way most princesses are wont to be; by tutors and nursemaids in the stead of parents. However Aurora was not entirely alone in her upbringing.

Each member of the royal family had been assigned a personal servant. King Stefan had David, his vassal, the Queen had Constantine, her handmaid, and little Aurora had been assigned Diaval, her caretaker. He was at times a stern father, others a mischievous older brother, but always a friend and confidant.

He was to attend Aurora in everything from the simplest matters to the complicated of requests. But more than that he began to care for her truly, as one would care for their daughter or their sister. And they were nigh on inseparable from the moment they met.  
Of course like any person, Aurora still needed her space. So could she really be blamed for her recent escapades outside the castle grounds? Unsupervised and unfettered she somehow contrived to escape her watchers time and time again. Until on her sixteenth birthday this brought about a most peculiar chain of events onto her and Diaval's lives.

It had been three days since Aurora had been seen last, and Diaval was very, very worried.  
It was no secret amongst the castle staff that Aurora frequently stole horses from the castle stables and rode out into the outlying farmlands for her own amusement (this was however carefully concealed from the king and his wife). But she had always returned promptly at nightfall, never been absent more than a day; mindful that her prolonged absence would mean hell for the servants due to the king's legendary temper.

So on the second day, Diaval had started to worry. But nevertheless went about his business as if nothing had happened.  
On the third day, he quickly dropped everything and "borrowed" a horse of his own from the stables to look after his young charge. It took him the better part of the morning to interrogate everyone in the surrounding area, still with no news of the princess. He had almost begun to give up hope, until he had run into a wizened old man living on the outskirts of the farmlands. Who had mentioned seeing a 'lil' young thing. About ye' high.' Asking about what lay beyond the edge of the forest, being very interested in the moors.

"Blast it." Diaval muttered to himself. He had not even needed the old man's description of her to know it was Aurora. She had always been much too interest in what lay in the moors for her own good.

"You're aimin' to go lookin' for her ain'cha?" The old man asked. His grimy face contorted into a wrinkled smile.  
In lieu of an answer Diaval just mounted his horse once more.  
The old man broke out into wheezing laughter as a response. "Ye'd need the best hounds in the world to track 'er down there!"  
"Worry not. I have something far better." Diaval broke out into a smug smile, "For your services and your silence." He said, dropping a gold coin into the old man's lap. Galloping away as the other called out a "Thanks' for the gold ya' fool!"

It was a brief ride to the edge of the moors, being so near to the edge of the kingdom's borders in the first place. The nearer and nearer he got to the moors the more Diaval's poor horse was spooked. Until in the end he was standing right in front of the forest and the horse would not go another step. "Onwards you stupid beast!" Diaval cried out of sheer exasperation after several fruitless attempts at coaxing the poor animal into moving forward. The horse just gave a rather pathetic sounding whinny in response.  
"Bother all you stupid beasts." He muttered clambering off the saddle and stalking towards the forest. "Go on then!" He called back to the horse, who was still resolutely rooted to the same spot. "Go back to those blasted stables you prefer so! And don't wait up!"  
The horse flicked its ears, in understanding or blissful ignorance; we may never know.  
"If you want something done right; you have to do it yourself, typical." Diaval cleared out a path through the underbrush, resolutely trudging onwards. Unaware that the horse, having been relieved of its duties for the time being was grazing peacefully a little while away from the entrance to the moors.

Daylight dimmed, casting long shadows across the fields until the stars came out in all their glory. The horse, seeing that Diaval had not returned, and being quite thirsty, took the previous suggestion and trotted off towards the castle. Rider-less and alone.

Perhaps at this point you might be wondering; what _had_ happened to dear Aurora? The truth is that on her weekly escapades from the castle Aurora had been testing the boundaries of the father's kingdom; slowly but surely edging nearer to the point of utmost interest to her, the moors. Until one fateful day, she had finally gathered enough courage to enter the fair people's domains.

This had not been, as she hoped, a magical experience. Instead it had proved to be an exercise in stupidity and recklessness. As from the moment she had set foot within the inner reaches of the moors she had been scooped up by a rather fearsome spear wielding tree spirit and unceremoniously dumped in what looked like a cell in a very wooden dungeon belonging to some sort of treehouse/castle hybrid. Here she had spent the last two days, with no one for company but the occasional fae tasked with bringing her food and water. Aurora, being, well, Aurora; had tried to reach out and converse with all of them. But they had all shaken their heads and made a shooshing motion whenever she spoke. "Curioser and curiouser." She mumbled to herself after the sixth time this had happened, slumping against the wooden bars of her prison and popping one of the berries they had brought into her mouth.

"Curious indeed that a little beast like you should find itself in our domains." A voice spoke suddenly behind her. Nearly making her choke on the berry in her surprise.  
She whirled around, mentally steeling herself for whatever manner of creature she may encounter. But nothing indeed could have prepared her for the sight that met her eyes.  
For it was a woman, one of the most beautiful women Aurora had ever seen in her life, regal as any queen but twice as imposing. But the most wondrous thing about this woman was not her beauty, but rather it was something else: her horns. Pitch black and curved, things that would not look out of place in one of those tapestries depicting hell in the castle.

"Who are you?" Aurora blurted out, momentarily losing her manners because of the surprise.  
"I think that is not the relevant question little beastie. But rather it is: who are you and why have you dared trespass here?" The woman arched an elegant brow, condescension dripping from her words.

Aurora scrambled up from the floor, falling into one of the many curtsies she had been taught. "I am Aurora ma'm. And the only reason I have come here is because I greatly wished to see the fair folk."  
"Hmm," the woman hummed; casting an critical glance at her. "Did you ever stop to think that none of the fair folk actually wanted to see _you_?"  
The words washed over Aurora like an icy chill. "No ma'm," she responded in a small voice.

"Well, I should hope that you should let this be a lesson to you-" The woman began to say coldly; before she was interrupting by a deafening bang as the door burst open. There was a flurry of movement that startled both her and the woman greatly. When a large black blur stumbled into the room and slammed the door shut.  
"Diaval!" Aurora cried, recognizing her caretaker immediately.  
"Aurora!" Diaval rushed to her side instantly as soon as she heard her; bypassing the woman as if she were no more than a ghost. "I thought I had lost you little one."

"No I am fine; and I am ever so glad to see you!" Her small, white hand slipped through the bars to clasp his; and for one blissful moment they forgot the situation they were in.

"O dear," The woman said, in the way one might talk to naughty children. "It seems there is not just a little beastie, but a great big beast as well."  
Their joyful reunion froze at her words and Diaval whirled around in shock; seeing the woman for the first time.  
"Who are you?"  
"Why does everyone keep asking that? It's very tiresome you know."  
Diaval's eyes narrowed, his metaphorical hackles raised. "What do you want with Aurora?"  
"With the little beastie? Not much, only that she work off her debt; there is a fine for trespassing you know." The woman smiled, all red lips and white teeth. "I should mention I'm being extraordinarily kind here. Usually I turn all the trespassers into rats."  
"She is just a child! I beg of you please let her go!"  
"Now why would I do that." Asked the woman; toying with Diaval as a cat toys with a mouse.  
"I offer to work off her debt in her stead."

The woman walked around to the opposite end of the room, looking back at them over her shoulder. "And what use would you be to me, you great big beast? At least the little one is charming to look at. You don't even possess that grace."

Aurora watched their discussions as one might watch a tennis match; frantically following the volley of words from one face to the other. But as soon as the woman said this she noticed Diaval's face contort in what looked like great agony.

"Because I would be more useful." He whispered at last.  
"Why?"  
Diaval exhaled a strangely loud sound in the silence of the room. "I am nearly one of your own. My mother was a faerie; and while I am not blessed with the magic she had, I have enough to have a few tricks of my own."  
"It seems we have a Halfling in our midst." The woman crooned, seemingly delighted. "What can you do?"  
"I am a shifter. I can turn into any animal I please. I would vow to do whatever you asked of me if you just let her go." Aurora gazed at him shocked, as cool, collected Diaval sounded desperate for the first time in her life.  
"Diaval, do not lie." She whispered at him, tugging on his shirtsleeves. "It won't help us any."

The woman began to laugh; a rich musical sound that have Aurora gooseflesh. 'Oh poor little beastie. You think he's lying. Let me tell you one thing." The woman said, whirling around; her beautiful features now contorted into an intimidating snarl. "I can smell deceit. I can smell it just like I can smell the stink of human on you; like I could smell the dregs of magic on your great big beast. He's not lying to me. He was lying to you."

The words hit Aurora with all the force of a kick to the stomach. "Diaval is it true?"  
"I am sorry Aurora. I truly am," Diaval whispered to her with all the desperation of a dying man. "I wanted to tell you, but that wouldn't just endanger me, it would have endangered you too. You know how the townspeople are, they would have me burned at the stake and you accused of conspiring with a fae."

"How touching." The woman said, her previous expression smoothing out into a mocking smile. "The great big beast truly does care for her. Tell you what. I will accept you exchange, but only if you may prove what you have said so far." She gestured towards the center of the room, Lit by the luminescence of a magic crystal glowing on the ceiling.

"Aurora don't look." Diaval instructed, moving towards the center of the room.  
"No!" She said defiantly back at him. "Diaval I understand why you kept this a secret from me but it is a secret no more! I can handle myself and I accept you as you are! Seeing you as something else won't change my opinion of you!"

Diaval looked at her, seeming infinitely pained, and Aurora felt the stirrings of regret within her, but stood fast by her words.  
"Very well."

The he transformed. Aurora had never seen anything like it in her life. There was a hum of power in the air that she felt deep into her bones while he changed. Fingers lengthening and blackening into shimmering feathers. There were small eddies of black whirling about him, obscuring the change. Until at last where Diaval stood there was a sleek and shiny raven.

The woman walked around him once or twice, while Diaval hopped around so as to face her. "Yes, you shall do perfectly." The woman knelt down and extended her hand towards him, so Diaval could hop on to the outstretched arm. "I need you to be my wings." She hissed, stroking his feathers.

Then with a small hop off her arm he transformed once more, a man in the place of where a raven had been just moments ago. "As you wish mistress," he said with a bow.

The woman waved her hand and with a shower of gold sparks the gate to Aurora's cell swung open. "There you are beastie, the trade is made. You are free to go."

Aurora stalked defiantly outside of her cell "No. If he is not leaving neither am I." She said in the steeliest voice she could muster; and proceeded to grace the woman with the deepest curtsy she had ever made. "Your wish is my command mistress."

"Oh no absolutely not!" Diaval roared. "I did not just pledge eternal servitude so you could throw it all away! You are marching out of here and going back to the castle Aurora!"

Aurora knowing he would never be moved to accept her decision unless she adopted desperate measures did the only thing she could think of. She began to cry.  
"I cannot go back to the castle!" She sniffled, big fat tears pouring down her face as she clasped Diaval's hand in her own. "Not without you; you are the only one who cares for me! Not even mother and father do! Everyone cares for the princess; you are the only one who cares for Aurora! I cannot leave you here!"

As expected, as soon as the first tear made an appearance Diaval was out of his depth. He hopelessly tried to console Aurora, who had descended to an all-out crying jag. At one point even glancing towards the woman in vain hopes of help. To which her response was an amused 'Your beastie. Not mine.'

"Alright, alright!" He cried at last out of desperation. "You may stay if she is alright with it!"

Aurora stopped crying at once and looked hopefully towards the woman.  
"If you are expecting me to say no you will be sorely disappointed. I offered her the chance to go and she has not taken it. I have fulfilled my part of the bargain. It is not my fault if your human is much too daft to take me up on it."

"Thank you!" She cried; any and all trace of sadness gone in an instant; Diaval's face displaying for all the world to see his indignation at being played like a fiddle.


End file.
